Day of Mars

Fuck Tuesdays. Monday’s are average, but at least they’re easy, I’m done by 6pm and I return to my shell. I can indulge in a deep laziness that’s more like some sort of disease. I find it impossible to do things I don’t want to do, that it could be overseen as a result of a privileged white Western upbringing in a 21st century world (where everything is available to us simply with the touch of a screen or a mouse.) 

I feel an ineradicable feeling like I’m wasting my time and my mind is too alive to dull down with societal responsibilities. Tuesday’s bring out the devil in me, and a schedule that’s broken up and difficult to work around gives me a sense that I’m missing out. Maybe it because I’m in love again – anything outside life with him is often of disinterest. 

Sure, humans are selfish beings and there’s a side of me that’s quite pleased with staying docile, ignoring my physical and mental being and seeing only one existence to serve. Tuesday’s are a universal feeling; although it could be a Thursday for someone else, and they bring out our ultimate disgust at doing things we simply have to do and have done ever since we could process order and direction. 

I feel a great injustice at these sorts of days, and today actually happens to be a Tuesday, but I’m one of many whose pleas are unheard of in reality. Because we all need to stay quiet and do what needs doing. It’s the day of Mars, and the God of war and law in Norse tradition, Týr, which uncannily sets the scene for a battle each week.

Yes, maybe I’m being too much of a dramatic whiny teen, and I’m naïve towards how much worse it could get… 

I was squeezed into this existence on a Tuesday, and on reflection, I’ve done okay. And hey, I can’t be so rough on myself – I pay the bills, I remembered bin night, I even might have finally got rid of my cats fleas.

So we’ll keep looking at the positives???

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